As I’ve mentioned, my good friend Kate was recently here for a vacation, and while she was, she took about a million photos. Kate is just one of those people who
constantly snaps pictures. I usually have very little tolerance for these types, but Kate has somehow managed to get away with it right from the start of our friendship. Knowing how I feel about photos, Kate was kind enough to let me preview the photos she planned to post on her blog and actually honored my objections (thanks, Kate!). As I went through her photos, I gasped at the sight of one set in particular: me…
in a bikini. Had she lost her effing mind? A reply was immediately sent off, asking her just as much and begging her not to post any of those photos. She agreed but I could almost hear her Kate voice saying “Meh. I think you look hot!” I showed the picture to my boyfriend and he echoed Kate’s voice in my head.
Were we looking at the same picture? It got me thinking about how I perceive myself versus how others perceive me and accepting my body and its “happy weight”. If my body is so damn happy with itself, then why aren’t I?
I’ve never been the skinny girl, and I’m quite confident to be so would require some rather unhealthy behavior. Aside from weight, there’s no fighting my body type; I have broad shoulders and wide hips. I will
always be a curvy girl. Years of playing sports have given me strong legs that don’t always fit into the skinniest of skinny jeans. (
Please tell me I’m not the only one who has almost been reduced to tears after unsuccessfully pulling pair after pair of jeans up past my calf!) Being active has also given me great muscle memory, allowing me to tone up quickly and without too much effort. While I’m grateful for a body often described as “healthy” or “athletic”,
I’ve never really been content with my body, but try as I may, my body always settles into its so-called “happy weight” (give or taken ten pounds).
Why don’t my mind and body agree when it comes to weight?
When it comes to injuries and illness, hunger and thirst, I always listen to my body. Why do I fight it when it comes to weight? As I considered this question, a few reasons quickly came to mind. The most obvious is that I’m a perfectionist; I always have been and always will be. As a perfectionist, it’s easy to pick out flaws…anything considered “imperfect”. While it may sound cliché, I know I’m not alone when I say that my perception of beauty has been conditioned by the fashion industry, and despite the recent revival of “fuller” figured models on the runway, thinner than thin is still the norm. Not to mention my athletic background engrained a competitive spirit in me from early on, and like any good competitor, I size up my competition…in this case other women. How many times have I looked at another woman and immediately noticed all the things she has that I don’t? Skinny calves, narrow hips, perkier boobs…this has to stop! And, lastly, as much as taking a break from the 9 to 5 world has done wonders for me, my chosen destination does have me wearing a bikini every day…and guess what? So is every other woman on the beach! While I have learned to dress my body type, a bikini puts all my areas of insecurity on display. There’s no hiding those hips or thighs!
So where does this leave me? Well, I’ve realized I’m a little too old to be battling insecurities. I want to move past issues that plagued me as a teenager. In order to do so, I need to accept my body and have realistic goals for myself. One of my
New Year’s resolutions was adopting a consistent fitness regimen. I always feel better about myself when I’m exercising regularly. I need to start focusing on what I do have rather than what I don’t. And, I need to remind myself that
life doesn’t revolve around any one thing; it’s a balance. At this point in my life, I’m just not willing to do what it would take to be on the lower end of my body’s happy weight range. One of my favorite aspects about life in Mexico is the food. There is simply no way I’m cutting back on my eating (or drinking for that matter). If that means carrying an extra five pounds, so be it. I’ll have my chili rellenos, tortilla chips, sour cream, extra cheese and beer, thank you very much.
Kate and I have gone back and forth on the topic and decided to post our feelings on body image. Here’s a peak at what Kate has to say (and head on over to
Clumsy Fox to read her
full post):
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